The world is like a crystal diamond,

but parch like a rotten bark. 

What is the world to others? 

They don’t know since they haunt the thoughts

of a perfect, cleaner paper. 

A piece of paper 

is like a white canvas that erases every crack 

like a volcanic eruption.  

The world is pure as a crystal clear lake.

 It holds the beauty of cracked objects.

What is this cracked object, 

I don’t know. 

It has no limit,

it expands like a dirt road.

 It expands like a whale running away from its attacker of small dolphins.

 As the whale runs away it forgets the limits it has to expand.

  The farther the whale swims,

 the more dolphins start to chase the canvas. 

The canvas might be blank,

 but be open like an old wrinkled book.

 The book might be wrinkled to the end of time. 

It doesn’t change the adventure of time.

 Time?? What is time? 

There is no way of figuring out the beauty of cracked mirrors. 

The weight continues to break. 

The more it continues to break,

 the more the object starts to shatter.

 If the object can crack then it has too much pressure.

 The way they say step on a crack,

 and you’re gonna break your mother’s back

 say everything about the hack

Hack… hack that’s it! 

Hacking the cracked thoughts

might attract more whack to them, 

but safety comes by whacking the doubt out.